Tales and teepees bring past alive

The flames from the campfire glow in Clifford Cranebear's eyes as he tells us the legends of the Blackfoot people. He tells of the days when they lived off the land in and above the river valley, the men following and hunting the revered buffalo, the women and children gathering the blood-red Saskatoon and bull berries in preparation for the long winter ahead.

During the summer, the nomadic clans would roam the tan-coloured folds of the prairie hills and coulees above the meandering Bow River. As the days grew shorter, they would descend to the banks and set up teepees among the trees in the river valley, which formed a natural shelter from the vicious prairie winds. Days were filled with skinning and butchering buffalo, of which every part was used, from bone to flesh and blood, fashioned into weapons, shelter, clothing, jewelry and food.

It's nearing that time of year now, here at Blackfoot Crossing Historical Park, and on this night, in this very place, the air is still and the pale yellow moon hangs in the late September sky, illuminating the teepee village. It is here that Cranebear's ancestors sat around the fires, telling stories of the Old Man, the Creator, known as Napi, the lore of the Sun and Moon and of the animals inhabited by both good and evil spirits.

For thousands of years, these legends have passed from the lips of elders to the ears of the children and grandchildren.

That oral history continues to be passed along at Blackfoot Crossing Historical Park, through modern means -- in the Vision Quest theatre and in the multimedia exhibits centre, about 100 kilometres east of Calgary.

Opened in July 2007, it was the culmination of a dream by the Blackfoot, who want to keep their heritage alive for future generations.

At 62,000 square feet, it is the largest First Nations-owned tourism attraction in Canada, and one day aims to be designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, like southern Alberta's Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump.

Thousands of Albertans, Europeans and Japanese have visited the centre, which is dramatically wedged into the South Valley Ridge.

Its circular shape and pale gold stonework blend seamlessly with the golden prairie. The glass-and-steel roofline echoes the teepee.

The centre has been busy, especially with visits by Albertans, but also by many Germans and French, who are fascinated with authentic aboriginal experiences, says Ken Healey, Blackfoot Crossing's teepee co-ordinator.

He tells of a woman from France who recently came to Alberta on vacation.

So moved was she by her visit that in a recent e-mail she told Healey she wants to live here and work at Blackfoot Crossing for no more compensation than room and board.

On this day, we're not unlike any of those who seek authenticity in our travels, with a desire to learn more about history, ancestors and culture, especially through the eyes of people who lived it.

We've come to see the centre for the first time and Healey was our host for the afternoon.

He drives us in his Polaris ATV along the ridge, stopping along the way at Crowfoot's grave, and that of his adopted Cree son, Poundmaker.

From this storied ridge, we can see a clearing in the valley where Treaty 7 was signed 131 years ago this week, on Sept. 22, 1877.

Nearby, the North West Mounted Police stood on what is now called Cannon Hill, waiting for the treaty to be inked.

Closer to the ridge, teepee tips poke through the trees, surrounded by now golden poplars, aspens and birches. In this spot, the tribes gathered, awaiting Crowfoot's fateful decision.

The 1800s had been tough for the Blackfoot. The Europeans were encroaching, and thousands of natives had succumbed to newly introduced diseases, like smallpox and measles.

Whisky and weapons were another lethal combination. And the buffalo herds were quickly dwindling at the hands of the newcomers, who wastefully hunted for sport.

Crowfoot, known as a sage diplomat and a peace-time leader, saw a bleak future: "We all see that the day is coming when the buffalo will all be killed, and we shall have nothing more to live on."

The Canadian government wanted the treaty to ensure the land would be entrusted to them because they wanted to build a transcontinental rail line that would extend to the Pacific Ocean, part of the deal to bring British Columbia into Confederation.

It was going to be their way and the railway. Faced with a Hobson's choice, Crowfoot signed the treaty.

The treaty cordoned off parcels of land in southern Alberta for the Blackfoot and gave the government the rest for the railway project.

Once hunters and gatherers, the Blackfoot became farmers and ranchers.

Under the treaty, each aboriginal family was to receive one square mile of land, some cattle, farm equipment and some cash. Crowfoot, for his pivotal role, received a sum of cash and a lifetime pass on the Canadian Pacific Railway.

The teepee -- once a home, the centrepiece of a village, and a woman's domain -- became a symbol of the past.

Today's four teepees are made of canvas, instead of the traditional buffalo hide. Healey made them, and adhered to traditional design. They are approximately six metres across by six high, with about a dozen stripped spruce poles holding up the circular frame and lashed through the central hole by rope.

Our teepee has a wood stove in the centre, and buffalo hides are spread on the floor, though we'll be sleeping inside our sleeping bags with pillows and wool blankets. Modern amenities like a water jug, matches, a flashlight and a first-aid kit sit on a nearby table. The porta-potties are just steps away.

After nearly two hours of fireside storytelling under twinkling stars and a pale yellow moon, Clifford's voice begins to crack and we're growing groggy. As we prepare to sleep with the ghosts of the ancestors of the Blackfoot, the coyotes begin their high-pitched chorus in the distance and the leaves rustle in the wind.

The sounds remind us of Crowfoot's poetic comment on the fleeting nature of life: "It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the winter time. It is as the little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."

To this day, scholars ask whether Crowfoot fully understood the breadth of Treaty 7 and how life as the Blackfoot knew it could never go back to the way it was.

But just as he may have mourned for the past, his people are not a mere shadow, a breath or a flash as they move forward to celebrate their present and their future. And we're all the richer for it.